


Netflix and Chill

by bearonthecouch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Couch Sex, Fluff, M/M, Modern Amestris AU, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 17:35:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17854100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: Maes rolled his eyes and toggled the Netflix menu from Xingese to Amestrian. He turned off the subtitles, and glanced at Roy. “Happy now?”#HyuroiWeek Day 3: Prompt: Alternative





	Netflix and Chill

“Jesus, Maes, do we really have to watch this?”

“It’s a classic of the genre.”

“I don’t speak Xingese. You don’t either.”

Maes rolled his eyes and toggled the Netflix menu from Xingese to Amestrian. He turned off the subtitles, and glanced at Roy. “Happy now?”

“Happi _er_. I guess.”

“You don’t sound happy.”

“Just press play.”

“In a minute,” Maes murmured, and he leaned over to kiss the curve of Mustang’s neck, and nibble at his ear, until his roommate swatted him away and reached over to try to grab the remote. He pressed play.

Roy tucked his knees up to his chest on the ancient couch Maes had rescued from his grandparents’ house after their move to a Central City nursing home. The couch sagged comfortably, and its fabric seats were threadbare and shot through with holes that revealed the stuffing and springs underneath. Maes and Roy were both well-acquainted with the hazards of the couch by now, though, and they curled up together on the left side of the piece of furniture, avoiding the exposed sharp metal in the center.

Maes was pressed up against the armrest, one arm curled around Roy’s body, holding him close. He whistled along to the upbeat foreign pop tune with its unfamiliar lyrics, scrolling across the screen with fast-paced jump cuts that heightened his sense of anticipation. Hughes had been watching these shows since he was a kid. Roy didn’t know what he was missing, that was all. He’d only seen the three episodes Maes wouldn’t let him wriggle away from.  
  
“Is this a fighting robot show?”

“No.”

“Talking animals?”

“ _No_.”

Maes hit pause again, turning his full attention on Roy. “Get it out of your system,” he demanded.

“I just want to know what I’m getting into, Hughes."

“It’s a crime drama.”

“Like Law & Order?”  
  
“No. Definitely not like Law & Order.”

“Okay,” Roy said, after a moment. He was clearly still dubious, but it was enough of an agreement for Maes to hit play again. A kiss made sure that Roy stayed silent for at least long enough for the opening credits to finish.

Maes broke the kiss to focus on the plot, on city skyscrapers and detectives flashing badges but just as often sitting around a sparsely furnished room talking: sharing theories and suspicions as they tracked their suspects’ movements across the frame of secret cameras and heard their voices muffled through hidden bugs.

“That’s not actually legal, is it?”

“Shut up, Mustang.”

“I'm just _saying_.”

Maes sighed heavily. “Maybe it’s legal in Xing.”

“Brilliant. Another reason not to ever go there.”

“What, were you planning on committing a crime?” Hughes asked, as he hit pause yet again. Rate they were going, it would take more than an hour to get through a twenty-minute episode of animated television. “It’s not like Amestris is free of CCTV monitors,” he sighed.

“Not all of us wanna grow up to be cops, Hughes.”

“Not all of us grew up in the gutter, Mustang.”  
  
Roy tensed up for just long enough that Maes winced. He never meant any of his teasing about Mustang’s family - he actually really _liked_ Mustang’s family - but Roy was understandably sensitive about the topic, and terrified of what might happen if anyone at their exclusive military prep school found out about it. It was bad enough being known as a scholarship student with mediocre scores in everything except the alchemy that earned him a place here. If anybody knew the free lunch foster kid was literally raised in a whorehouse, the uproar might actually get him kicked out of school. Maes had sworn repeatedly that he wouldn’t let that happen, despite the fact that he had no control over anything remotely close to who got to stay at the Amestrian Military Academy. He cared enough about Roy that he sometimes amended the promise to agree that if he couldn’t stop Mustang’s expulsion, he’d quit school too.

Maes sighed, and stroked Roy’s spine gently until the younger boy relaxed. “ ‘m sorry,” he murmured.  
  
“ s’okay,” Roy replied.

Maes kissed the top of Roy’s head, and let his thumb hover over the play button on the remote he still held loosely in his right hand. “You wanna turn it off?”

“Nah. Not yet.”

"Okay."

They sat in the flickering glow of the television for the remaining fourteen minutes of the show. “Wasn’t terrible, right?” Maes asked, after he’d shut off the screen, and they were left alone on the couch in a room that was pitch black except for the ambient streetlight spilling in through the window they rarely closed.

“No,” Roy agreed. “Not terrible.”  
  
He shifted on the couch until he was straddling Maes, who grinned and let his tongue dart out between his teeth as Roy pushed him down. Hughes watched as Mustang carefully undid the heavy buttons of his uniform shirt. He slid it off and let it land half on and half off the couch. His white undershirt was thin enough to leave very little to the imagination, but even so, Maes stripped it off so he could admire Roy’s surprisingly toned abs. Yes, both of them participated in grueling PT every day, but Mustang’s abs were just completely _unfair_ . Maes traced those sharply defined muscles with his tongue, until Roy grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him back.  
  
“Fuck’s sake, stop teasing me, Maes.”  
  
Hughes nodded, and quickly shucked off the sweatpants and gym shirt he’d pulled on after class several hours ago, leaving only his boxers between him and Roy’s touch. And soon enough, he didn’t even have that. The boxers ended up on the floor, and Mustang carefully stroked Maes’s cock with a practiced hand. In a surprisingly short amount of time, Maes was whimpering in equal parts pleasure and desperation.

Roy stopped for just long enough to get rid of his own pants. The handjob gave way to the kind of sex that left both of them breathless and soaked with sweat, unwilling to move off the couch, despite the exposed springs scratching at their unprotected skin.  
  
“Jesus, Maes,” Roy exhaled, repeating his words from earlier.  
  
“I _told_ you you’d like this show.”


End file.
